Mercy
by solotaire
Summary: Sam and Dean take a hunt in a small hospital which goes wrong from the start. Limp!Sam. Dean Angst! Sadly I have as yet been unable to purchase supernatural, so it still belongs to CW and Kripe. Now updated and complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Supernatural- Mercy**

_The soft whoosh of the ventilator of the room filled the hospital where ten-year-old Kelly Peach lay fighting for her life in a coma. A veritable swarm of wires and tubes fought their way into her limp body, hooked up to the monitors looming over her bed. By her side her dad sat slumped in the chair, clutching her hand is slept an exhausted sleep._

_The duty nurse walked by and paused for a second to gaze at the quiet scene, a compassionate expression sweeping across her face as she saw the sleeping man. After a moments hesitation she continued on her round; whilst behind her a cold chill swept into the room. The electrical displays and lights began to flicker and one of the machines started to bleep; at once a startled Mr.Peach jolted awake fearfully and was reassured to see a petite dark haired nurse leaning over his daughter._

"_What is it?" He asked hoping against hope that his daughter was finally starting to fight back, the nurse glanced at him and smiled and then before he could react she reached out and switched off the machines that were keeping Kelly alive. "No," he cried as an alarm went off and he leapt around the bed towards the nurse._

_Silver flashed in the air as he reached her and he staggered back in with a gurgling gasp, staring in shock at the crimson drops sprayed around the room and then at the scalpel in the nurse's hand._

"_She's at peace now," the nurse whispered as the man collapsed in a pool of his own blood, pocketing the scalpel the nurse turned and walked from the room._

Sam glanced up as Dean came across to where he was sitting in the back of the bar, his brother was grinning triumphantly as he waved a wad of money at him.

"Dude, you really need to have a go at poker," Dean said as he slipped onto a stool and reclaimed his beer.

"I wouldn't want to steal your thunder," Sam said as his brother pocketed the money with a sigh and a shake of his head, then Dean nodded at the open laptop in front of him.

"Anything freakish?" He asked keen to get on with a new hunt.

"I think so, take a look at this," Sam swung the laptop around so Dean could read the newspaper article. "It's the second double murder at the hospital in the last two months; both times it was a critically ill patient and a parent that was murdered."

"Could be garden variety murders?" Dean asked as he scanned the article but he felt the beginnings of a hunt.

"Maybe, but the CCTV cameras show no one entering the rooms at the time of the murders and both rooms suffered brief electrical surges at the times of the murder," Sam replied as he pulled the laptop back towards him whilst Dean took a thoughtful swig of bear.

"Okay its worth a look," he said as he lay aside his empty bottle and stood, with a grin Sam followed suit quickly shutting the laptop and slipping it back into its bag as he followed Dean out to the Impala.

Leaving the car at a small motel on the outskirts of town they made their way to the hospital on the west side of the town, noticing as they arrived that there were more police than usual.

"This isn't going to be as easy as we thought," Sam muttered as they stepped past two cops guarding the main entrance and Dean grimaced and then grinned as he saw the pretty, blonde-haired receptionist.

"Oh I don't know about that, stay here," he told Sam who sighed as he watched his irrepressible brother make a beeline for the girl.

A few minutes later his brother was back, a smug smile on his face as he glanced back at the girl.

"Did you get anything apart from her number?" Sam asked in exasperation and Dean grinned.

"I got the room number where the last murder was and she's going to get the back up copy of the CCTV video for me." Shaking his head Sam followed as Dean headed for the stairs, wondering just what it was about his brother that made girl's do anything for him. They noticed that a curious hush lay over the wards that they passed, and that visitors were arriving in groups; clearly the murders were causing concern.

Finally they reached a part of a corridor that had been cordoned off, glancing around they slipped under the yellow tape and entered the room on the right.

"What a mess," Sam said as he peered down at the crimson pool on the floor and then up at the drops sprayed on the wall, ceiling and bed.

"Look at this," Dean had his EMF out and was busy scanning the room; Sam peered over his brother's shoulder and saw that the scanner was detecting large readings.

"Definitely not a garden-variety murder," he said grimly looking around the room.

"Yeah but who or what is doing it? And why?"

"Well we're not going to get any more answers from this room," Sam replied and Dean reluctantly pocketed his scanner and followed Sam out of the room and back down the corridor.

Just as they reached the second floor they noticed that the light in a small side-room was starting to flicker, exchanging alarmed glances the two brothers rushed to the door. A small, dark haired nurse was bent over an unconscious man whose partner was watching anxiously; Sam and Dean turned to leave just as the scanner in Dean's pocket went of with a high pitched beep. At once they turned back as the nurse whirled to confront the intruders, her hand reaching out towards the switch for the machines.

"I don't think you want to do that," Dean said and the nurse froze, whilst the man's partner looked at them in alarmed confusion.

"Who are you?" She demanded her eyes shifting to the nurse's outstretched arm and then back to the two brothers.

Sam detected the nurse's slight shift in balance, and as she sprang at Dean he shoved his brother aside as a silver blade flashed through the air. He cried out as the scalpel tore into his abdomen, and he was thrown aside as the nurse rushed past her eyes glowing gold as she disappeared down the corridor.

"Sam are you alright? " Dean rushed to his side and gently pushed aside the hand Sam had clasped instinctively to his abdomen, Sam didn't need to see the worry and horror in Dean's eyes to know that the wound was bad, steeling himself he looked down to see a growing red stain on his torn shirt.

"I think we found our culprit," he managed to say as an alarm went off, looking up they realised that the man's partner had hit the alarm button. "Um Dean I don't feel so good," Sam muttered thickly, blinking as he tried to focus on his brother's face.

"Sammy," Dean said sternly- forgetting Sam's dislike of his childhood name- as he reached out to hold his brother's face so that Sam was forced to look at him.

The woman who'd rung the alarm came to stand beside them, gazing wide-eyed at Sam with tears of shock and fear trickling down her cheeks. Dean glanced briefly at her, but barely registered her presence as he turned his attention back to his brother who was barely conscious.

"Is he alright?" She whispered and Dean felt like exploding with frustration. Sammy was laying there bleeding like crazy and she was asking if he was okay, but instead he bit his lip and shook his head silently. The sound of urgent voices and hurried footsteps made him look up, and to his relief he saw that it was doctor and a nurse.

He was forced to back off as they went to work on Sammy, and he gazed blankly at his hands, which were stained crimson. He couldn't believe that everything had happened so quickly- they'd only been on the hunt for a couple of hours and already everything had descended into chaos. Shaking himself free of his dark thoughts he watched helplessly as Sam was lifted carefully onto the trolley, feeling a cold fist of anger growing in his stomach as he gazed at his brother's pale face.

"We've got to get him to theatre," the doctor, a kind round-faced man said gently to him and Dean nodded wordlessly his eyes fixated on his little brother. Silently he followed them as they rushed Sam to the theatre, his thoughts turning swiftly from shock to cold images of vengeance- whatever that nurse had been…she'd now brought herself a death warrant…Winchester style.

Dean was pacing around anxiously outside the theatre when the doctor re-emerged and came across to him.

"How's my brother?" Dean demanded at once, his face strained from what had felt like hours of silence although in reality it hadn't been that long.

"He's a very lucky young man, he lost a lot of blood but the blade didn't pierce anything vital and we repaired the damage," the doctor said unruffled by Dean's impatience and he smiled as Dean sighed with relief. "We'll be bringing him out in a minute and you can sit with him if you like, though I know the cops will want to talk with you when they've finished with the other witness."

"Thanks doctor," Dean said in a relieved voice, however, he was shocked by how frail and helpless his brother looked when Sam was wheeled out of the theatre.

Sam groaned as he came to, drowsily pushing at the oxygen mask on his face as he looked around in confusion, his brown eyes clouded with sleep and pain.

"Hey Sam," he blinked and realised that Dean was sat in a chair beside his bed, as his brain woke up he was surprised by the level of concern showing in his brother's eyes.

"Hey," he said croakily as he managed to push the oxygen mask aside, "what happened?"

"The doctors managed to patch you up," Dean gave him a strained smile before adding, "trust you to find the one psycho chick in the place." Sam chuckled weakly and then gasped as the laughter pulled at the wound.

"I wasn't about to let you have all the fun, and Meg still beats her hands down," he said once the pain had subsided once more.

"Seriously Sam, you shouldn't have put yourself in danger like that," Dean said sternly as he leant forward in the chair, and Sam sighed.

"Well I wasn't about to let her gut you."

"And you figured it was better for her to gut you?" Dean demanded. "Dude if that's what you call logic I think you'd better go back to college."

"I didn't exactly have time to think of a plan," Sam retorted wearily and Dean softened as he saw him stifle a wince of pain.

"The cops think it was just a random attack," He said as he leant back in his chair.

"I take it you didn't tell them it's probably supernatural?"

"Of I didn't, anyway I'm not so sure that it is anything supernatural."

"What if I told you that the nurse's eyes went gold after she stabbed me?"

"Gold? So she could be a demon or a reaper? But reapers don't usually go after healthy people and they don't use scalpels," Dean grimaced as he considered the difficulties of finding a single nurse in a hospital and then exorcising or killing her without anyone noticing. "But what does she want?" He pondered aloud but there was no response, and looking at Sam he realised that his brother had drifted of to sleep and an affectionate look came into his blue eyes.

"Great help you are," he muttered jokingly as he carefully straightened his brother's covers, scowling at the medical equipment surrounding the bed. He seriously hated hospitals, particularly when he wasn't the one who was injured- and especially when there was something supernatural running riot. Gazing at Sam's peaceful expression and pale complexion he berated himself yet again for letting his little brother get hurt; making a decision he got to his feet and softly left the room- it was time to get a handle on this thing.

When Sam woke sometime later he was disconcerted to find himself on his own, where on earth was Dean? It shocked him to realise just how much his brother's presence comforted him, and he shook his head…this wasn't something that he was going to admit to Dean, the guy already had a large enough ego. Yawning he took an inventory of his body, the area where he'd been stabbed was still painful and he certainly wasn't about to go for a round with a demon or angry spirit but he was slowly on the bend. Relaxing he gazed up at the tiled ceiling, his sleepy mind slowly kicking itself into gear as he puzzled over the recent murders and the attack…why was whatever the nurse really was stalking a hospital?

Suddenly he sat up forgetting about his wound, and tears came to his eyes as he stretched the wound. Hissing he steadied himself, but his eyes darted around as he realised that Dean hadn't left him with any means of defending himself if it came to finish him off…he didn't have a weapon or any salt. Anxiously he gazed around, eyeing up anything that he could utilise as a weapon but the room was depressingly empty.

"What are you doing?" A voice broke into his anxious search and to his relief he saw Dean walking through the door, a stern expression on his face.

"Looking for weapons," Sam admitted sheepishly.

"Have you seen it again?" Dean demanded sharply as he looked around the room, with a sigh Sam shook his head and his brother relaxed visibly.

"I just realised I didn't have any weapons in case it did turn up again," he explained and Dean grinned as he patted the bulge in his coat.

"All taken care of, now lie down will you I don't want you doing anymore damage to yourself today," he instructed as he slid into the chair beside the bed and glaring at his brother until Sam reluctantly settled back into his pillows unwilling to admit how much his sudden movement had cost him. Dean clearly wasn't fooled though because his brother's eyebrows rose and he gazed at him as though assessing his condition.

"I don't suppose you know what we're dealing with?" Sam asked in an attempt to change the subject and to reassure his brother that he really was on the mend.

"I know it's not a reaper," Dean replied eventually deciding to follow Sam's ploy. "And I did a check back over the hospitals history and I found two more occurrences when there was a series of double murders."

"When?"

"The first one was two months after the hospital opened, the other was twenty years ago so there isn't a pattern apart from the method and victims."

"Maybe it's a spirit of someone associated with the opening of the hospital?" Sam asked and Dean grinned, it was good to see his kid brother was well enough to be his usual geeky self.

"I thought of that and I'm going to hit the local library in a while, I just wanted to check you were all right."

"I'm fine, but I'll feel better when we have this thing wrapped up. The thought of her still being out there is a bit worrying," Sam said and Dean nodded as he saw the anxiety in his brother's soulful eyes.

"Alright I'll see what I can find, but please stay in bed- I don't want to hear of any escape attempts."

"Like I'd get far," Sam, retorted and Dean grinned as he slipped a small package under his brother's pillow, keeping an eye out for any nurses passing by.

"Its got an iron blade and some rock salt, so if she turns up to give you some TLC you should be able to deal. Okay?"

"Thanks Dean, for everything," Sam said, reassured by the feel of the bundle through the pillow.

"No chick flick moments," Dean said and then he was gone, and Sam couldn't help but smile as he heard him whistling a Metallica song.

Dean sat back with a sigh and rubbed his tired eyes, he hated research, which was why Sam usually did it, but today his brother had to rest. Besides this hunt was quickly becoming more and more personal, he wanted to end that son of a bitch and quickly before anymore harm came to his little brother. Stretching his stiff shoulders he leant forward once more and picked up another yellow-stained newspaper from when the original murders had occurred; this time as though in response to vengeful impatience he found what he was looking for:

Today Caroline Wilson aged 25 was prosecuted for the murder of twelve people at the local hospital. The nurse claimed that she hadn't murdered the people but was helping them escape their pain, and her lawyer moved for an insanity plea, which was rejected. The local Judge said that 'this is one of the most horrific case of serial murder that he had ever experienced and that the only honourable and just punishment for such a crime was death.'  
The families of the victims were granted retribution today when Miss. Wilson was sentenced to death within the week by hanging; and after a special plea from one family it was agreed for the penalty to be carried out in the field next to the hospital.

"Got you," he grinned things were definitely on the up, if only he could find where she was buried then it would be a simple case of salt and burn and then bang, no more Casper. "See Sammy, I can do research." Shaking his head at his own folly he got up, surely the librarian would know where the nurse had been buried- after all it was a huge scandal and this was a small town. And the sooner he got what he needed the sooner he could check on Sammy before getting on with the hunt.

Sure enough the old librarian had the information he wanted to know and more, the man kept spouting out information and Dean began to regret saying he was a college student doing a research project.  
"Thanks for your help, but I've got to go," he said but the man didn't seem to notice, and his diatribe continued even as Dean sneaked away. Once outside he grinned with relief, libraries really were not his scene and he couldn't wait for his brother to take over that part again. 

Sam stirred restlessly, his eyes flicking open and blurring for a second as the pain hit him again. Blinking and holding back a gasp of pain he looked up to find Dean peering down at him anxiously.  
"Thought I was meant to wake up next to a dark haired beauty," Sam quipped and Dean rolled his eyes, although he still looked concerned as he watched his brother struggle to sit up.  
"I look a lot better than you do at the moment sweetheart," he retorted and Sam smiled slightly as he gave himself a mental kick for giving Dean an opening.  
"Did you find anything?" Sam asked as his eyes darted to the rucksack slung casually over his brother's shoulder.  
"I did."  
"And….?"  
"And I'm going to do a little salt 'n' burn," Dean replied with a broad smile that was ruined by the vengeful glint in his eyes, Sam almost felt sorry for the ghost…she really had ticked off the wrong person.  
"Who was she?"  
"Here," Dean handed him a pad of notes in his scruffy hand writing, "I thought it'd give you something to read."  
"Dude your writing is a mess," Sam commented as he flicked through the notes, but he gave his brother a grateful look and a small grin.  
"Bitch."  
"Jerk."  
"Try to stay out of trouble whilst I'm gone," Dean said and Sam chuckled, Dean really was like a mother hen at times when he got into protective brother mode.  
"I'll try," Sam replied and Dean smirked.  
"I could always get a nurse to give you some TLC Sammy," he suggested.  
"It's Sam and no thanks, I've had enough of nurses to fill me a life time," Sam said with a small shudder, which he hid by pointing at the door with a mock scowl. " Besides isn't there a lady calling for you to make her burn?"  
"I'm gone," Dean said and he headed out of the door without another word, although he couldn't stop himself from glancing back to check on his brother but Sam was already engrossed in his notes. Shaking his head at his brother's geek tendencies he headed out on the hunt.

Sam frowned as he flicked through Dean's messy yet surprisingly detailed notes, something was hovering on the edge of his mind and it was bothering him. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he turned the page to look at a picture of the woman that looked as though it'd been torn out of a book, shaking his head at Dean's research methods he examined the picture and something clicked. The woman in the picture was wearing an old-fashioned nurse's outfit….and the one that had attacked him had been wearing a modern uniform. The face had been the same…but ghosts didn't usually keep up with fashion changes... which meant that they were dealing with something else.  
"Burning the bones isn't going to do anything," Sam muttered to himself as he tried to ignore the jolt of alarm going through him. Glancing around he saw that Dean had dumped his blood-splattered jacket in a chair on the far side of the room and groaned.  
Cautiously he slipped out of bed and stood on shaky legs, taking a deep breath he retrieved the small knife Dean had left him and tucked it into his sleeve. Slowly he moved across to the chair, his eyes flicking anxiously to the doorway as he fumbled in his coat pockets until he found his cell phone. Staring at the blood on his jacket he quickly flipped open his phone and dialled Dean's number. After a couple of rings Dean answered.  
"Sam what is it?" His brother sounded irritated and worried, and Sam could almost imagine him tapping the steering wheel.  
"It's not a ghost Dean."  
"What? Has it come back? Are you alright?"  
"I'm fine, but I found the picture of the nurse and it looks like the same woman but it has a different uniform; the woman in the picture is dressed as a old-fashioned nurse and the one that attacked me was wearing a modern uniform," Sam explained in a hurry, leaning against the wall to take some of the weight off his trembling legs.  
"Damn it," Dean growled angrily. "But they look exactly the same…which means…"  
"It's a shape shifter," Sam finished his brother's sentence.  
"I'm coming back, stay alert Sam you know how sneaky Shape shifters are."  
"After Saint Louis I'm not about to forg…." Sam trailed off suddenly.  
"Sam? Sammy? Sam answer me!" Dean yelled down the telephone but Sam didn't reply as his attention was fixated on the woman in the doorway, his eyes growing wide as he stared at the golden-eyed nurse with a mixture of alarm and fear.  
"Hello Samuel," the nurse said coldly as she stepped into the room, her eyes glinting with amusement as Sam slowly closed his phone… 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean cursed as he threw the Impala into a u-turn, how could he have missed the different clothes? As he sped back towards the hospital he was plagued by guilt, if anything happened to Sam then it'd be his fault. However, he knew better than to dwell on those thoughts so he pushed them firmly behind his game mask; his eyes blazing with determination to save his little brother, kill the shifter and get the hell out of dodge before anything else could go wrong.

With a muffled groan Sam forced himself to move away from the wall's support as the shifter closed in him. With a trembling hand he pulled the knife out of his sleeve, he knew it would do little to protect him but it made him feel slightly better to see the glint of metal in his hand.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," the nurse said reproachfully, shaking her head in mock disappointment as she eyed his pitiful weapon and the pronounced trembling in his limbs.

"Don't call me that," Sam growled and her eyes flashed briefly before she smiled at him with a knowing look on her face.

"Isn't that what your brother calls you?"

"Leave Dean out of this," Sam said softly whilst a silent voice in his begged Dean to hurry up and get here. Taking a deep breath he desperately focused on keeping his legs steady, realising that he wasn't going to able to remain vertical for much longer. "Why?" He asked through gritted teeth as he tried to buy himself and Dean some more time.

"Why did I kill those people?" The nurse asked sweetly and Sam nodded. "Because I can, and because it's amusing to see how humans react to death. Grief, anger, hatred its just beautiful to watch it and to know I caused it."

"You are one sick chick," Sam muttered, realising with no small amount of horror that he was picking up Dean's sarcasm in the face of death habit. He swallowed hard as a sudden wave of nausea hit him, and he felt his vision blurring slightly but he continued to focus on the shifter.

"Who are you to judge," the nurse hissed with sudden anger as she moved forwards again, at once her mask slid into place once more but there was now a slightly deranged glint to her eyes and Sam realised with a thrill of foreboding that she was done playing. "You know if you hadn't of interfered with that other couple then this wouldn't be happening, but I really can't let you or your brother stand in my way."

Sam cursed silently as the strength disappeared from his legs and he stumbled back into the wall before sinking to the ground, no longer able to keep himself upright.

"Hush," the nurse whispered and Sam watched hazily as she came alongside him and crouched down. Warning bells were going on his head, urging him to move, to yell for help, to use the knife; but he didn't have the energy. "Let me help you, and then we'll wait for your brother to come back alright?" the nurse cooed softly, and Sam blinked sluggishly as he noticed the hypodermic needle she was lowering towards his arm.

"No," he said weakly and he tried to jerk his arm back, but the nurse simply grabbed his arm in a strong grip and forced the needle through his skin. Oh this is bad he thought blearily, Dean was so going to kill him for getting into this mess. The haze around his vision intensified the and with a faint sigh he slumped completely, not quite unconscious but certainly not capable of moving or talking.

Dean dashed into the hospital, his heart pounding with dread as he ignored the annoyed glances being shot at him as he pushed past people without a word of apology. Silently he cursed their innocence and ignorance, didn't they know that his brother was in trouble? Trying to keep his raging emotions in check he let his hand drift to his gun, which was carefully concealed, beneath his trademark leather jacket; he knew exactly how to deal with the shape shifter when he found it.

Finally he reached the door to Sam's room and he skidded through the door, coming to an abrupt halt as he saw the echoingly empty room.

"Sammy? Damn it," he growled it, taking a modicum of comfort from the fact that the room wasn't trashed. Suddenly his eyes caught a flash of yellow and moving closer to the bed he realised that it was an envelope. With a trembling hand he picked up and carefully opened it, easing out a Polaroid photo and his eyes became icy and distant as he stared at it his heart pounding.

_Sam, his Sammy, his little brother was lying on a gurney that looked horribly like a morgue trolley. Sam looked as though he was dead, his skin paler than ever and a wide crimson stain marred the hospital gown where his stab wound was._

"Son of a bitch," Dean snarled as he clenched the photo refusing to believe that his brother might've been taken from him. Forcing himself to a steadying breath he turned his attention back to the photo, he was going to find Sam and bring him back alive. Gazing at the image he realised that the shapeshifter would have taken him somewhere no one but Dean would think to look…which meant the basement or the morgue. After a moment he settled for the basement, the morgue would be too risky for the shifter. Smirking slightly he tucked the photo into his pocket and hurried from the room, it was time to get his little brother back.

Sam felt a surge of nausea flood through his aching body as whatever the shifter had given him began to wear off. As feeling flowed back into him he became aware of a burning sensation on his abdomen, and with a faint moan he inched his head up and looked down his body. He wished he hadn't when he saw the crimson stain spreading across his hospital gown.

"Dean," he muttered as he lowered his head once more.

"Is ickle Sammy calling for his brother?" A voice asked mockingly, and his head pounded at the slight noise making him feel as though he was about to pass out. Although considering his current situation he wasn't sure if that was such a bad thing, swallowing hard he twisted his head towards the left and took in his surroundings. They were in what appeared to be a basement, and he guessed that he was still in the hospital seen as he appeared to be laid out on some sort of gurney.

Blearily he turned his gaze to the shifter who was leant against a wall watching him with a mixture of mockery and curiosity. As he stared at it through blurry eyes he was reminded painfully of his last encounter with a shape shifter in St.Louis, he seemed to have dreadful luck when it came to shifters.

"Will you stop staring at me," Sam slurred drowsily, the cool gaze of the shifter making him feel like an item on a dinner menu. The shifter smirked and moved towards him, its eyes flicking to his bloody abdomen as her eyes flashed golden for a minute.

"I have to admit that I'm curious, most people would be screaming in pain and fear; begging for me to spare there lives. But you, you're just lying there accepting what is happening as though death doesn't scare you."

_Oh it scares me alright _Sam thought _I just learnt to suck up the fear and get on with things._

"What can I say, I live with death nearly everyday," he said as sarcastically as possible, even though he made a mental note to spend a bit less time round Dean and life-threatening situations."Why don't you just finish it already?"

"Because I want your brother to be here," she said softly as she ran a finger along the edge of his wound. "I want him to watch the light go out in your eyes, and for him to die knowing that he failed his little brother when he needed him the most." Sam shuddered at her touch, but he forced himself to ignore it as his hazy mind struggled to find a way to stop her getting Dean. His eyes searched the basement for anything that could be used as a weapon, anything that he could use to hold her off until Dean came. His fists clenched as she pressed down on the wound, tears of pain glistening in his eyes even as he lashed out with a pain-filled snarl. Her smirk disappeared at once as she dodged his clumsy fists, and her eyes flashed as she struck him hard across the face. Slightly dazed he pulled his heavy body away from her, and the next thing he knew he was toppling backwards and then his body struck the floor with a dull thud that sent a flash of pain through his gut.

"That was foolish Sammy," a low voice growled, and he watched blurrily as the gurney was flung aside and the shifter loomed above him, her mouth drawn into a silent snarl. He had to agree with her as the pain in his gut intensified, and a black mist began to seep across his vision. This time he didn't even try to fight as she crouched beside him and calmly injected him with more of what she'd given him in his room; between the mist and the drug he didn't stand a chance and her golden eyes were the last thing he saw as he sank into oblivion.

_Save Sammy. Kill the shifter. Save Sammy. Get out of town._ The mantra ran through Dean's mind as he hurried down into the bowels of the hospital, praying that he wasn't too late. He tried not to dwell on the photo in his pocket, refusing to let the image get to him emotionally; instead he focused on his weapon as he checked it over. He knew that he couldn't afford a single mistake, he'd nearly lost Sam to the shifter in St. Louis but he hadn't and he was damned he was going to lose his little brother this time.

As he reached the doors to the basement he slid his hunting mask into place, he couldn't let his emotions get in the way so he he hid them behind years of experience and instinct. Quietly he eased the door open, his gun at the ready as he slid through the crack into the faintly lit room. The sight that met his eyes when he looked up made him want to vomit as it imprinted itself permanently on his brain.

Sam's limp body was dangling from the ceiling, his bare feet a couple of feet off the ground. His arms had been stretched to their limit and bound tightly to beams on the ceiling and his head rested limply on his chest. The crimson stain on his abdomen had spread, and was beginning to run down his trousers as well.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered as his heart clenched with silent dread as his eyes searched frantically for the tell tale rise and fall of his brother's chest. There was no reaction from his little brother, and his hunter's mask began to crumble as he rushed towards his brother. "Sammy!" He cried in raw anguish and the walls of his reality began to crash and burn around him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Sadly I own nothing but the plot in this story...although I am working on plans to kidnap Sam and Dean

"It hurts doesn't it? Knowing that you failed your little brother. Knowing that when he needed you the most you weren't here," Dean whirled as the shifter stepped out of the shadows, her eyes glowing golden. "He died begging you to come and save him, screaming your name."

"You bitch," Dean snarled as he whirled to face her, his anger burning through the ice spreading across his heart. His eyes blazed as he raised his gun, _I'm so sorry Sammy, I should have got here sooner. I shouldn't have left you alone_ he cried silently as his finger tightened on the trigger

"De..an," the weak whisper broke through his anger, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Slowly Dean his head to look at his brother, his eyes growing wide as Sam weakly lifted his head to look at him with teary eyes that showed his pain and fear. At once the ice in his heart began to melt, his Sammy was alive!

"Sammy," he said softly, and his own eyes grew moist as a small smile crept across his little brother's face before being replaced by a look of horror as he looked past Dean's shoulder.

"Dean," Sam cried faintly and Dean whirled at once, turning just as the shapeshifter collided with him her face twisted in a snarl of rage. Her momentum sent them both crashing to the ground at Sam's feet, and Dean grunted as her fist collided with his temple making him see stars for a brief second before he summoned all his strength to shove her off him. As she rolled away from her he stumbled back to his feet with a muttered curse as he realised that he'd lost his gun in the scuffle.

Looking up he froze as he saw that the shifter had managed to move around him so that she was stood slightly behind Sam; Dean's gun pressed tightly against his forehead. His heart ached as he saw the silent terror in his brother's hazy eyes, not fear of death but fear for Dean.

"Whoa whoa. Let's talk about this alright?" Dean spread his hands in what he hoped was a placating manner, he knew without a doubt that his little brother's life rested in his hands right now and that one wrong move could tear that life from him. Sam stared at him blearily, wincing as the gun massaged itself into his skin the message in his eyes was clear..._Get out Dean, don't let her get you as well._ Dean shook his head slightly ignoring the anguish in his brother's face; there was no way on earth that he was leaving Sammy.

"What is there to talk about?" The shifter asked softly as she ran her free hand down Sam's cheek, smiling coyly as he flinched away from her touch. Her eyes were gold as she glanced at Dean carelessly, confidant that he wouldn't try anything whilst Sam was in her grasp.

"Let my brother go," Dean growled his eyes flicking briefly to hers before he focused on his brother once more.

"Why?" _Because I said so_ Dean thought but he didn't say it, instead he hesitated as he tried to think of something. Anything. That would cause the shifter to reconsider and give him more time to come up with a plan to get himself and Sam out of this godforsaken hospital.

Sam could see the hesitation and fear in his brother's eyes, and he knew that Dean wouldn't do anything to defend himself or attack the shifter whilst Sam was still in danger. Fighting against the pain and nausea flooding his body he forced his dazed mind to focus, his eyes flicking around as he tried to think clearly. Slowly an idea began to unfold in his mind and he risked a glance at Dean who was staring at him in confusion and alarm; silently he forced his lip to curve upwards in a small smile. He had to do this to save Dean…his brother was always saving his ass and now it was Sam's turn to return the favour…he just wished he could rely on his battered body responding to his commands.

Gritting his teeth in anticipation of the pain that he was certain was going to follow whether he succeeded or not, he carefully began to draw his body upwards. Masking a wince as he jostled his wound and placed an even greater strain on his over-stretched shoulders, he looked once more at Dean. _Get ready. I'll only be able to pull this off once_ he thought, praying that Dean would get the message and play his part.

With a muted cry of pain he lashed out with his legs, closing his eyes as he collided with the shifter before she was knocked away from him. He heard a dull thud to his left and a cry of angry surprise, and he smirked slightly…he'd got her, the rest was up to Dean now.

As soon as he realised what Sam was doing Dean tensed, and as the shifter went flying he propelled himself towards her. She snarled as he landed on top of her and he grinned at her mockingly as he locked his knees to stop her escaping whilst he wrestled his gun out of her hand.

"You should have had that little chat when it was on offer," he said grimly as he clambered awkwardly to his feet and aimed his weapon at her chest.

"Please," her eyes faded from gold to dark brown as she gazed up at him in fear as she realised that the tables had turned.

"No," Dean's voice was flat and cold as he stared down at the thing that had nearly taken Sammy from him; there was no mercy in his eyes as he pulled the trigger back sharply. The shot echoed eerily around the basement but Dean didn't flinch as he watched the shifter carefully to ensure his aim had been true, but there was no further movement from the blank-eyed women and slowly he lowered the gun and hid it beneath his coat.

Turning away from the dead shape shifter he hurried to his brother's side, his concern growing as he heard Sam's gasping pants.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean asked as he gently shook his brother and he felt a surge of relief when Sam raised his head slightly to peek at him through half-open eyes.

"Dean," the low whisper conveyed the exhaustion and pain that were afflicting his brother and Dean's eyes narrowed in concern.

"Hey buddy I've got you, let's get you down from there alright?" He said as cheerfully as he could and Sam nodded slightly, watching with trusting eyes as Dean inspected the ropes binding him to the ceiling. His mind wandered slightly as the pain and exhaustion that he'd pushed away in the attempt to help Dean returned in force, filling his head with a thick mist that was making it hard for him to focus on anything.

Dimly he felt Dean's body against his, bracing him as his brother sliced through the ropes holding him in place. Strong arms encircled him as he sank downwards his battered body collapsing in on itself. Willingly he sank into the comforting warmth and strength of the grasp, drawing a modicum of comfort from his brother's presence.

"Sorry," he whispered not sure if his voice was working properly or not, he thought that he heard Dean say something but the words were jumbled up and he frowned in confusion as he tried to understand. He was so tired….surely it wouldn't matter if he slept for a little while…After all Dean was here and that meant he was safe…and anyway wasn't the danger over now the shifter was gone? Faintly he felt his brother shaking him, saying something to him in a voice that sounded too emotional to be Dean and then he was gone….sliding away into the open maw of oblivion.

Dean shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes fixed on his brother who was lying unconscious in the hospital bed. Biting his lip he methodically watched Sam's chest rise and fall, his ears alert to the slightest alteration in his brother's laboured breathing. According to the surgeon Sam's suspension had strained some muscles in his brother's back and chest which was why his breathing was so laboured but the damage wouldn't be permanent and he expected Sam to make a full recovery after a week or two of rest.

Dean sighed as he glanced down at his hands, remembering how they'd been coated with Sam's blood as he'd carried his unconscious brother back up into the main hospital, yelling for help. Sam had been rushed back to theatre to have the aggravated and extended wound repaired; whilst Dean had convinced the police that the nurse had disappeared before he'd found his brother (_luckily he'd had the presence of mind to move the shape shifters body out of the basement, hiding it in the morgue where he hoped it wouldn't be discovered until after Sam had been discharged)._ That had been three hours ago, now he had nothing to do but sit and wait and pray that Sammy would pull through alright.

As though sensing Dean's anxious musings Sam stirred restlessly on the bed, a small whimper escaping from behind the oxygen mask obscuring his mouth. At once Dean was at his side, one hand reaching out to grasp Sam's arm.

"De…an," the same whisper that had melted the ice in Dean's heart down in the basement now brought tears to his eyes, even after everything...even after Dean's screw up with the research…Sam still had his unshakeable faith in his big brother. The same unquestioning trust that he'd had as a little boy, when Dean had been left to care for him whilst their Dad was out hunting.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said softly as he rubbed at his eyes, determined not to make this moment any more chick flicky than it already was. Slowly Sam's eyes fluttered open and he gazed up at Dean, his eyes searching as he examined his brother.

"You are such a girl," Sam whispered after a long moment and Dean wanted to cry even more…Sam was still his Sam…even after this latest near death encounter.

"Dude, this is so not a chick flick moment," Dean grinned. "I was crying at the sight of your fugly mug."

"Sure Dean," Sam retorted wearily as he lifted a heavy hand to try and pry off the oxygen mask.

"You need to keep that on," Dean said at once as he reached out to stop Sam, and his little brother frowned in confusion. "Its to help with your breathing, you strained some muscles and its affected your breathing a little," he explained making sure that his tone was light and relaxed so that Sam didn't get upset.

"How long do I have to stay here?" Sam asked as he fought against his drooping eyelids.

"The Doc said till the end of the week at least," Dean replied with a grin as Sam let out a disappointed huff; neither of them were fans of hospitals at the best of times and after the last couple of days they hated them even more. "Get some rest Sammy," he added as he saw that Sam was struggling to stay awake. Obediently Sam relaxed, his eyes drifting shut again as sleep claimed him.

With a yawn Dean dragged his chair closer to the bed and slumped into it, his hand never leaving his brother's arm as he stretched his weary body. Today he'd come to close to losing Sammy, and he swore to himself that he'd never let that happen again...it was his job to look out for his brother and from now he was going to make sure that was his top priority. With that vehement vow he dozed off into a light sleep, lulled by his brother's breathing.

Please Review...good or bad :)

The Epilogue should be up in a couple of days...I just can't leave the boys in hospital.


	4. Epilogue

**Two Weeks later**

It was nothing more than a dingy, small town motel with rooms that smelt of damp wallpaper but to Sam it looked like paradise as Dean carefully shepparded him into their room. The one week stay at the hospital had turned into two when an infection had wormed its way into his stab wound and refused to let go; but now it was gone and the doctors had reluctantly allowed him to leave after his constant attempts to drag his recovering body out of the hospital.

"Bed," Dean commanded, breaking into Sam's thoughts and Sam grinned as he obeyed. Dean had been majorly protective since the second attack and was constantly acting like a mother hen around his younger sibling who found it amusing to see his tough, no-chick flick brother being so fussy and attentive.

"Yes mom," he muttered as he eased himself down onto the bed, mindful of his still tender abdomen as he stretched his lanky frame out on the narrow bed. Dean scowled but there was no heat behind it and after a minute he disappeared into the bathroom; reappearing within seconds with a cup of water and Sam's painkillers.

"Get them down you and rest," he said gruffly and Sam took them obediently, hiding a small smirk at his brother's attempt to be less motherly. Swallowing the tablets he relaxed back into the pillow wincing slightly as he manouvered his shoulders into a more comfortable position. Sighing he felt his eyes drifting shut as the weariness that had clung to him since the attack took over; distantly he felt a dip in the mattress as Dean sat beside him and then he was gone.

Dean rubbed a hand across his face as he gazed down at his sleeping brother, watching as the painkillers eased away the faint lines of pain on Sam's forehead than only he would have noticed. Careful not to disturb Sam he ran his other hand through the unruly locks of hair that framed his brother's too pale face, scowling at the lack of colour.

"A few days of rest and then we're heading south, we need to get you into the sun before people start mistaking you for a zombie," he said with a small smile as he rose and retreated to his own bed.

As he laid down he found himself gazing up at the ceiling as memories of the last few weeks played through his mind; memories that he'd willingly lose if he could. He didn't understand why his little brother had forgiven him so easily for his bungle on the research...a bungle that could have caused Sam to die...but Sam had refused to accept Dean's apology in the hospital even the fever that had been ravaging his body during that conversation hadn't lessened his conviction that Dean had saved him.

0 

_Dean sat up instantly as he felt Sam stirring beside him, rousing himself from his grim thoughts of what might've been._

_"Dean?" Dean winced at the pain and fragility in his brother's voice, frowning in concern as he noticed the beads of sweat that were forming on his brother's forehead_

_"Hush Sammy, I'm here," he said softly as he reached out to feel Sam's forehead, gasping at the heat that was radiating from his skin. _

_"I don't feel so good," Sam slurred, his eyes at half mast as he peered at his brother in confusion and Dean felt his stomach clench with fear and guilt...this was all his fault._

_"Let me go get the nurse okay," he noticed that Sam flinched slightly at that and he hesitated for a second as he met his sibling's fevered gaze. _

_"I'm sorry Sammy," he whispered suddenly as he reached out to hit the call button, realising that Sam didn't want to be left alone whilst they were still in the hospital._

_"Why?" Sam asked innocently in a small voice and Dean swallowed._

_"For this," he gestured at Sam and the surrounding room. "I screwed up Sam and it almost got you killed."_

_"No," Sam's voice was so faint that Dean had to lean in to hear him. "Not your fault, just a hunt gone bad. You saved my ass again."_

_"Sam..."Dean started again unable to accept the fogiveness his brother was giving him but Sam raised a trembling hand to stop him._

_"No Dean, its not your fault okay? I don't blame you," Sam trailed off as exhaustion hit him and all he could do was stare beseechingly at his brother. For Sam's sake Dean nodded, pretending to accept the absolution he'd been given and then the nurse had arrived and the moment was lost._

Scowling Dean flipped onto his side so that he could watch Sam sleep, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest.

"No more screw ups Sammy and no more chick flick moments," he whispered as he started to drift, adding as an afterthought. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Dean smiled at the drowsy reply before he too gave into the exhaustion that he'd held at bay for the last couple of weeks. Things were going to be okay now that Sam was back at his side.


End file.
